Mistaken
by Inklines
Summary: The weatherman had been wrong today. Leslie had been wrong all her childhood. College UA. Aged-up characters.


**AN: **I'm baaaaack! With another story! (Sorry for the wait, I was trying to complete more than one). An introspection into Leslie's mind during an unexpected downpour. Mainly to diffuse headcanons and also to attempt to write these two characters. I must apologize if these characters don't sound canon (especially since my style of writing has changed); I'm trying to capture their personalities as accurately as possible. Also apologies if you aren't comfortable with my leisurely writing. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

The ClueFinders (c) The Learning Company.

* * *

There really wasn't any problem with the rain, she mused to herself, tapping the cup of her coffee with an unpronounced rhythm. She liked the rainfall, especially during this time of year - the gentle pattern of drops on windowpanes; the very subtle petrichor wafting in the air, the way in which the colours of the environment would mute to a dullish cerulean blue; not to mention how cooler it made the temperature. The rain was lovely, yes, and Leslie knew this.

Still, this appreciation was reserved for quiet moments at home, during periods of relaxation. It's an entirely different story altogether when one is watching the rain from inside a cafe, the threat of class in the near future, the downpour increasing, and panicked curses punctuating the silence. Leslie huffed, sloshing still-warm decaf in her cup, inwardly cursing herself for being so careless. She had misplaced her umbrella the night before - and the morning rush coupled with the assurance of the weather report had her simply grabbing a sweater. She had stopped in for a light snack when the rain basically came from nowhere, prompting passers-by to find quick refuge.

"I should question the credibility of the meteorologist more often," she commented, biting her lip and checking her watch. It was only half an hour before she would be joining those hastily rushing out of the cafe with no cover. Leslie settled back, watching the seconds tick, sipping her coffee, feeling useless.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder a few minutes later; she shook it off as a careless obstruction and wasn't surprised to see that said obstruction had moved away. She was, however, startled to see an all-too-familiar face sitting across from her at her table, tapping his own coffee cup with his own distinct rhythm. He grinned at her, his purple shades prominent amongst the dark clothes he was wearing. "Miss me?"

"Owen? What are you doing on campus?" she managed, although it came out more as a biting remark than one of genuine surprise. Owen simply brushed her tone aside - or never had noticed it - and took a sip of his cappuccino.

"I came in as a transfer. I'm going to be attending school here in a few days! Aren't you excited?"

After a short pause, Owen raised his hands in a gesture of resignation. "Okay, fine. I came to drop off some stuff from Joni. She would have come but... both she and Santiago are busy, and I'm pretty much the free-est one here."

"Main office?"

"Come on, Less. Joni told me they have a knack for misplacing things up here. Plus, these are important. I want to make sure they're in _your_ hands." She nodded, considering his words. "So why are you in here anyway, dudette? I thought you'd be going over your seminar lesson plans with your professors about now."

Leslie cast a glance to the scene outside the cafe and shrugged. "I seem to have been caught in the downpour. It's approximately a 7 - 10 minute walk to my class." A quick check to her watch indicated that she still had 15 minutes to get there and set up. Across from her, Owen surveyed her from behind his glasses, and got up.

"Want me to walk you there? I mean, I don't have much to do after I leave; and I wanna, you know, see the place - just in case I actually do want a transfer, and - come on, Less. We got some catching up to do." He held a hand out to help her up, and Leslie felt the corner of her mouth tug into a small smile.

The rain had eased from its heavier pouring to a regular drizzle, and the pair leisurely strolled through the campus grounds, closely huddled underneath Owen's black umbrella. Passing students noticed and were pleasantly surprised to see normally-serious, kept-to-herself Leslie Clark having what seemed to be an animated conversation with someone other than her professors for a change.

"So how _is_ Joni and Santiago? I trust they're in good spirits?"

A chuckle - "Yeah. Santiago's been caught up about it though..."

"He still has not informed her as yet?" Leslie brought a free hand up to cover her uncharacteristic giggles. "I approved the song eons ago! He really needs to gain some confidence when it comes to her." She heard Owen exhale softly - and they fell into a comfortable silence. "...So tell me what's going on with you."

She could sense Owen tense up beside her - as if he hadn't expected her to question it - she felt a little bad about prompting him, adding, "You are not required to answer that..." and was a little surprised to see Owen shrug it off with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"It's fine, Les..." He began, loosening the grip on the umbrella. "Let's see... I got my pizza-oven skateboard!" A wide grin. "Other than that... I'm still working at that mall kiosk, but you know where I'm going." He pointed up to the sky. "I'm really gonna to be the first guy to skateboard up there."

As she prompted him to continue his life plans and dreams, Leslie pondered on the enigma that was Owen Lam. Throughout their early ClueFinding years, she'd write him off as the lazy, annoying kid; posing as mostly a nuisance; utterly unnecessary to the group and their missions. Now, however, amidst the solid pattern of steps and his deep voice, she realised he was one of the smartest of them four - it was no surprise that all of them were smart, but Owen could _translate her_, a feat that not even some of her university professors could manage - and no matter how annoying he was - or was that affectionate? - he really did strive to maintain contact with her since they had parted ways, talking to her like a normal friend; not assuming her to be as pushy with her knowledge or as a child pretending (like last time).

She started thinking that she may have been wrong.

The lack of movement brought her out of her thoughts; Owen had stopped outside the campus library, scratching his head absentmindedly, mentioning that he needed more instruction. They ascended the stairs together; there was an awkward silence as she faced him, while he rummaged through his messenger bag and produced a few parcels. He was quiet for a while, and she noted how she was missing the sound of his voice - before he pulled Leslie into a tight hug. She calmly reciprocated, the height difference awkward between the two of them.

"So I guess I'll see you around, stupid." He was joking, obviously, but that didn't stop Leslie from hitting him. He released her, grinning, and she watched as his retreating figure descended the stairs. She had been wrong about Owen. So, so wrong.

* * *

The evening news served as background noise as Leslie unwrapped her packages. There were mostly documents and textbooks - save one smaller and neatly wrapped rectangle. Carefully surveying it, she unwrapped and unboxed it - and was greeted by a stunning titanium-silver alloy necklace, complete with an atom pendant. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she held it to the light; and a note fell out of the box.

"Stay brilliant.  
(Like this necklace.)

-O. Lam."

They say you learn something new everyday. Leslie learnt two things: rain can be enjoyed outside of the house; and the weatherman had been wrong, but we all deserve to be wrong once in a while.


End file.
